


Eye of the Beholder

by Xiaojian



Series: Happy Dracula Families [1]
Category: Castlevania: Lords of Shadow, 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Comfort, Family, Family Bonding, Fluff, Gen, Self-Esteem Issues, this is sickeningly sweet ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-22 23:24:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6097357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xiaojian/pseuds/Xiaojian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel takes his son to an art gallery to make an important point.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eye of the Beholder

“A museum?”

“An _art gallery_ , Trevor. They’re different. Really, you’ve lived in this era far longer than I have. Shouldn’t you be the one explaining things to me?”

His words were mocking, but his tone was light, and he had a smile on his face. Trevor rolled his eyes.

“An art gallery, then. Why are we going to one?”

Gabriel grinned. “You’ll see. Trust me.”

Trevor sighed and shook his head. “Nothing worries me quite like hearing you say ‘trust me,’ father.”

“Oh, hush.”

Trevor laughed and ducked away when his father reached out to ruffle his hair. Blond, now, not white. Just as his skin appeared human now, the ghastly white pallor covered up by a soft pink mask. It was all the work of magic, of course – Trevor still refused to drink from humans. It was easy for Gabriel to keep a low profile. He already looked almost completely human. But Trevor required heavy disguise spells to walk unnoticed among mortals.

And walk among mortals they did, frequently. After Satan’s second and final defeat, the remaining two Belmonts had made a decision: They needed to change. Gabriel was in no hurry to fall back into the destructive habits that came along with isolating himself from the human world, and Trevor was determined not to lose his father again. With that in mind, they built their disguises and eased themselves into the small but thriving city that had sprung from the ruins of Bernhard Castle. Not as Dracula and Alucard, but as Gabriel and Trevor Belmont. Not as enemies, but as father and son. As the family they had never had a chance to be.

As they walked the neon-lit nighttime streets of Castlevania City, Gabriel took a moment to look closely at his son. Trevor had enthusiastically embraced the ability to cover up the parts of himself he deemed hideous, monstrous. Which, to Gabriel’s concern, was just about his entire body. Trevor had expressed disgust at his bloodstained claws, his wolfen teeth, his inhuman skin littered with cracks. He’d explained his hatred of his colorless hair, his golden eyes, his emaciated chest.

It became more of an issue when they began using their disguises. Trevor liked his so much, he never took it off, even when there was no one around to see him except his father. Keeping a glamour up so often took a toll on the most powerful vampires. It was completely draining Trevor, who was already severely handicapped by his abstinence from blood.

It pained Gabriel to see his son hurting himself. That was his reason for the sudden trip to a local art gallery.

“‘Of Monsters and Men,’” Trevor read, looking at the large sign in front of the gallery building. The exhibit’s advertisement featured an elaborate watercolor painting of a human archer locked in an intense battle with a vicious harpy.

Gabriel ushered him inside the doors. There wasn’t a line for tickets. He had deliberately chosen a night towards the end of the exhibit’s run for their visit. The gallery was quiet, with only a few – mostly elderly – patrons wandering about. They purchased their tickets quickly, and walked inside the exhibit hall.

The walls were adorned with works from dozens of different artists, all depicting creatures of the realm beyond mortals. Many were drawn from various mythologies around the world, but quite a few were intimately familiar to Gabriel – creatures of his own castle.

Trevor approached an oil painting near the entrance, his eyes wide as he recognized the image of a Dishonored Vampire raising its sword in a silent threat.

“I assume this is what we’re here to see?”

“Partially.” 

They moved through the gallery slowly, taking time to appreciate all of the artworks in turn. Gabriel was lingering fondly in front of an illustration of a rotund old man who looked awfully familiar when he heard a soft, low gasp from behind him. He turned, and immediately saw what had startled Trevor.

‘Fallen Angel,’ read the plaque under a stark black-and-white depiction of Lucifer, a wicked grin across his face. Trevor’s face twisted in disgust as he stared at the picture.

Gabriel walked to his side and reached out a hand, rubbing his back gently. Trevor turned to him, expression shifting back into a grateful smile.

“He’s dead and gone,” Gabriel reminded him.

“That he is.”

They continued walking, quickly reaching the end of the first area. They turned the corner, and Trevor froze in place.

A vast painting dominated the far wall of the new room, demanding full attention with its bright colors and heavy golden frame. A large, intimidating crimson dragon twisted and coiled its body across the canvas, exuding darkness and flame. Beneath its snarling face, the colors of the painting shifted to the cool blues of ice and winter, where a pure white wolf stared out at the viewer, looking ready to jump through the canvas at a whim.

Trevor leaned over and whispered to him.

“They made me look so small compared to you.”

“You _are_ small compared to me, son.”

He held back a laugh at the way Trevor huffed and straightened his back, pulling himself up to his full height.

There was a wooden bench in the center of the room. Trevor walked over and took a seat, staring at the painting. Gabriel followed his lead and ran his eyes over the details of the work. The brushstrokes on Alucard’s fur, the blood red sheen on Dracula’s scales – the artist had clearly done their best to capture the essence of the Dragon and his child.

Trevor looked away after a long while, startled by movement around them. People were starting to file out of the exhibit hall. 

“It’s closing?” He asked, standing up and looking anxiously towards the exit.

“In a few minutes. Before we go, there’s one last thing I want you to see.”

He moved quickly into the next room, glancing around. When he didn’t find the image he was looking for, he ushered Trevor into the last room.

“Ah, there we go! Trevor, I want you to take a close look at this.”

“Do we have enough time for tha – oh…”

Trevor went silent when he saw what his father was pointing to with a smile. He stared for a long moment.

“I don’t look like that,” he eventually said. His voice was soft, unsure.

“Yes, you do.”

Tucked away in a corner was a small but vibrant painting of his son as he looked without any disguises, standing tall and regal on the roof of what looked like a cathedral. Vigilant, not threatening. A protector, not a predator. The artist had taken care to bring out the beauty in the vampire. Trevor lifted a hand to his face, feeling it to see how it compared to the serene creature on the canvas.

Gabriel wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulled him close.

“ _That_ , my son, is how the humans see you. Tell me, what is ugly or monstrous about that?”

Trevor looked away, but Gabriel saw the silly smile on his face. 

“Thank you, father.”

Trevor leaned into his embrace, and they remained there until an employee told them it was time to leave.

When they returned to the cathedral that they had rebuilt into a home, Trevor walked the halls as himself, not a mask.


End file.
